To Walk

Grief

This is the sad aftermath of Lydia's mistakes...

DON'T READ IF YOU'RE SAD!

Warning for descriptions of wounds and burns, and desire to self-harm

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RECAP

DAMON RIVERS' POV

         Suddenly, the demon appeared with a cyan flash just in front of the treeline. He uttered a groan of pain as he lurched forwards and reached a hand out, finding support against a wide oak. He huffed, then looked back at me. I stared back, confusion lining my sweaty, half-covered face. His eyes were even dimmer now, pulsating like a heartbeat. He turned away, closing his eyes, and flashed away again, and this time, I could see another small, cyan flash about twenty blocks into the trees. My eyes lit up again as my hunger for revenge returned.

          I could finally track him.

          I drove a fist into the ground, swaying as I forced myself to stand. I would gather the least wounded later, and take him out while he was still vulnerable and healing. For now, there was work to be done, bandages to make, and mobs to fight off, as they would soon gather here, following the scent of blood.

         I looked one last time in the direction HE'd teleported towards.

         The eastern mountains rose up, blocking out some of the stars, catching my attention.

          I muttered, "You haven't escaped yet, demon... Beware of our return."

END RECAP

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DAMON RIVERS' POV

          "Take it slow...one step at a time. Lean on me, there you go."

          "Agh! Gad...st-stop...just two seconds..."

           I hardly heard the gasps of pain, the people cursing their wounds, as they regrouped back at camp. The lesser wounded helped those who sustained greater injuries back to our campsite.

          I was on my knees beside the still form of Sandy. Grass, stained with her blood, softly stroked her face, which was a gruesome mess of exposed muscle and tendons and burnt flesh. She had been directly hit by HIS lightning...and had died instantly. The sky was a lightening grey, the sun coming to shine down on the ugly battle scene. Twisting, black burns ripped through the grass, exposing dark soil, testifying to HIS power, his lightning. Blood stained the dirt and grass, torn and crushed from blades and boots. The air was crisp and cool, and yet tarnished and heavy with the coppery scent of blood. The surrounding trees waved softly, and quietly, as if they knew of our loss. Three bodies lay, twisted and deformed, unmoving, on the battlefield.

         Three.

          Three dead.

         None of them had deserved this, and though my logical side argued that they knew of the dangers, that they had been willing to fall and die in battle, my heart refused to allow me to let them go. Refused to let go of my burden. In the first few hours after the fight, I had become numb, my mind only able to take so much. Going around and shaking people, checking for pulses...looking upon deformed corpses, knowing that checking for a heartbeat would be futile...it had put me in a dazed state as I struggled to accept this new reality... As I struggled to accept the fact that yes, this had just happened, and people were dead because of me...